


Stultus Trifolium

by whatacartouchebag



Series: Fair Game Week 2020 [7]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Professors, M/M, fairgameweek2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:00:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23259541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatacartouchebag/pseuds/whatacartouchebag
Summary: Day Seven Challenge - Free Theme/AUProfessor Branwen had a singular dilemma, and it stared ever-so-innocently back at him as it sat upon his table.A bunch of tiny weeds in a decorative pot.“This is so stupid...” the breath slipped from him.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Series: Fair Game Week 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1665535
Comments: 3
Kudos: 65





	Stultus Trifolium

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xpertangel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xpertangel/gifts).



> Time for the final day!! For the final challenge, I had a few ideas in mind, but this was actually a fic I'd toyed with in the weeks leading up to FGW! If you've read any of the larger offerings on AO3 for these two, you might've already stumbled across a stunning fic by Jelly - An Affair of the Body and the Mind. If not, I STRONGLY suggest you check it out! He's created something so wonderful and gorgeous for these two, and it's such a joy to read.
> 
> So! When such wonderful stories exist, it's pretty hard to ignore the challenge of creating something wonderful from it. It's set sometime before the study abroad in Atlas, and shortly before finals week, just to give y'all a set place to see where they're at.
> 
> Enjoy <3

He fidgeted fingers on the steering wheel as he drove, red eyes flitting between the cars about him as he made his way through traffic. It wasn't that he hated peak hour traffic, just that his family simply seemed to live where it always congested in the worst way, swamping his route and utterly destroying any hope of making it to his house on time.

More often than not, it wound up with a string of heavy sighing, relaxing further back into his seat despite the tension that settled into tight shoulders, and waiting it out with the steady tap, tap, tap of his foot on the brake.

Edge forward a few feet, tap the brake.

Over and over again, in an incessant fashion until it slowly drove him insane.

A staccato of the worst kind.

The radio could only help so much, and he honestly disliked most of the current rot that assaulted his ears anyway. _And_ there were only so many good radio stations in the city. Playing his own music was moot, since he rarely had his own to listen to, and he honestly thought it was more trouble than it was worth to setup a streaming service. Tai had once suggested he listen to an audiobook to at least help his mind unwind a little.

The level of disgust that crossed into his expression at the thought even had his nose crinkling in distaste even now.

Audiobooks. The soft snort left him as fingers steadied on the steering wheel idly. Whilst he could understand the concept of such a thing, and for people who wanted that sort of hands-free entertainment when travelling, the thought of them just sat in his stomach like a stone.

Whilst the narration was usually quite well done, and by someone whose job it seemed to be either a famous actor or public speaker, there was always something missing from them.

A cadence that never seemed to strike a chord in him.

He knew Ozpin was a fan of them, but that was mainly since he preferred the soft cadence of a voice in the back of his mind whilst he worked, rather than something non-descript, like music. Qrow thought it was more than a little distracting to have someone constantly talking to you whilst trying to work, and he'd called his friend out on the idea before.

Ozpin only shrugged at the words, telling him that it actually helped him concentrate. _And_ it was good practice for class, when all you could hear were distracted murmurs and whispers around you. Qrow did have to concede that point; some days it was like herding cats.

Sleep-deprived, muttering, dishevelled cats.

_Particularly_ as time trickled closer towards finals.

The faint smile quirked the corner of his lips as he indicated for his exit, slowly pulling onto the ramp. It was a brief bit of freedom, and it felt good to speed up a little.

He glanced down at his watch, brows perking slightly. Impressive. Today it only took him half an hour to travel the usual four mile stretch of hell. He was breaking records all over the place.

He pulled out of the stream of traffic and turned towards the direction of Tai's house, finger tapping idly to a tuneless song on the steering wheel.

***

“You're asking me about a weed?”

“No, I'm asking you about _clovers_.”

“Your... co-worker?”

Qrow felt his patience beginning to wane, leaning back in his seat and gesturing blankly. “Not- _No_. Not him. I mean the plant. Clovers.”

Tai could only stare blankly back at him for a handful of time, fingers collecting about his mug as his brows pinched, looking a little lost at the question. Why was his brother- Well, no, he'd learnt a long time ago to not really ask questions of a man who was a professor, and a published author to boot. He already knew his search history was a mess, let alone anything else in his life, and he'd long since learned to simply go along with what he was asked.

Though why he was coming to him, of all people, was a hell of a question. He did enjoy his time in the garden, so perhaps he wanted a less clinical answer than information online could offer him.

“Well, uh... it's a common plant, nothing too fancy. Mainly used to feed livestock, I suppose. Great at helping out bees-”

Qrow's sigh cut off his words, as faint as it might have been, and the ghost of a smile came to him. He knew the tone of that heavy exhale of breath, and he lowered blue eyes to the coffee mug that he cradled, just waiting for the question he knew burned on his brother's lips.

“How do I _grow_ some?”

Now  _that_ was a question he wasn't expecting, and Tai brought blue eyes back up to the man, one blond brow raised in questioning.

“Why do you want to grow a weed?” he asked, questioning his brother's sudden interest in horticulture.

“I don't- It's not for me,” came the blunt answer, and Tai only felt his confusion rise a little at such a statement.

“That's... not what I asked.”

Qrow felt himself caught out by the retort, and he ducked red eyes away, brows pinching as frustration sat easily on his expression. He knew exactly why he wanted to stick a bunch of clovers in a pot and raise them, but he wasn't about to tell Tai that. Even if he'd already outright fumbled his answer to the man.

The blond could see that whatever answer steadied itself on Qrow's tongue, it wasn't for his ears, and he leant back in his seat, folding his arms across his chest.

“I mean, it's a weed, so it's pretty easy,” Tai continued, simply ducking between his brother's thoughts. “You plant them, and their ongoing maintenance isn't all that hard; they kind of grow wherever they please. Keep them watered, plenty of sunlight and give them a bit of food every so often, and they're all too happy to do what you want.”

Red eyes blinked a little as he absorbed the information. Alright. So it didn't seem like it would be all to hard to pull off. Finding some shouldn't be an issue, since if Tai was right, they were a  _weed_ and they grew everywhere.

His brother, as if sensing his distracted thoughts, could only sigh faintly at him, allowing the knowing smile to ghost across his lips. It was such a public secret that Qrow's heart was an open book around the man, and he almost shook his head at him as he stood, chair scraping on the floor.

“You know, it's lucky you came around when you did,” he began simply. “I was going to tidy the yard this weekend.”

Qrow followed him with his gaze as Tai moved to wash his mug, a little lost for a moment. The blond glanced at him over his shoulder with a smirk.

“Come on, it's a weed. An invasive one, too,” the man explained. For all his intelligence, his brother had a hell of a time following certain strings sometimes. “Bound to have _some_ of it in the garden, somewhere. Especially after all that rain.”

Dark brows went up as he sat there, direly missing the point. “Can... I have some?”

Tai couldn't stop the laugh that spilled from him. “That's what I'm inferring, you dunce,” he replied, ignoring the soft huff from the other man. “Look, there's still plenty of light in the day, why don't we go check it out now? Getting some dirt under your fingernails will do you the world of good.”

Which is precisely how Qrow ended up crouched in his brother's backyard, necktie long since removed and sleeves rolled up at his elbows as he parted dense variety of foliage after foliage. He groused softly to himself as he searched the ground, finding plenty of weeds, just not the right ones.

And he probably had some monumental grass stains on his trousers now, too. Not to mention the crud caught in his shoes.  _And_ the dirt under his fingernails, as promised. All in the name of hunting for a  _weed_ , he kept reminding himself.

He sat back on the balls of his feet, letting his hands still on the edge of the garden bed. He still couldn't understand why he was so hellbent on finding this damn plant. Well. He  _could_ , and it kind of frustrated him to no end. He bit back the sigh on his tongue as he stood up once more, brushing the dirt from his hands onto already dirty pants.

The frown that lay heavy upon his brow had simmered down to a vague crease as he stood there, and he folded his arms across his chest. The smell of wet earth, grass and bursting flowers were all but assaulting his senses out here, but it felt... relaxing. It gave his mind a moment of stillness in his otherwise cluttered life, and he could appreciate why Tai spent so much time in the garden.

It really was peaceful.

The sigh slipped from him before he'd even realised it, and his brow began to relax further, the rest of him following suit. Red eyes were suddenly lost to the world about him, recalling the snatches of greenery around the man's own apartment. It was a veritable rainforest with the sheer amount of variety that was tucked into every available nook and cranny and empty shelf space. Deep greens that soothed with broad leaves on sunlit windowsills, to simple splashes of colour adorning an otherwise dull corner. Impressive stalks of blinding determination and tangled ferns knotted into crevices, and spilling down all manner of furniture.

Ivy leaves that snaked down a bookshelf, entwined so carefully along dark wood...

He reached up, placing a hand to the side of his face as the low exhale of breath escaped him.

He still knew starkly the sight of those books sitting high upon the top shelf, and still had no idea why the man would need to keep so many copies of them. It had plagued his thoughts almost as much as...

Red eyes narrowed faintly, brow pinching as something in his chest felt as if a thorn had grazed him. A small thing, barely noticeable, but it's scratch continued to sting hours afterwards.

He still saw them as clearly as his own works, and he wished dearly that he could push it from his mind.

A simple collection of letters in a drawer.

That all bore a single name.

The smell of dirt brought him starkly back to the world once more and he came haltingly back to reality, pulling his filthy hand away from his face as the heavier sigh fell from him. Using his other hand, he wiped down his face, and the smear of earth that was left there. Well now he needed a shower to go with his laundry. Wonderful.

“Hey Qrow!”

Tai's voice sang out from across the yard, and red eyes turned to see his brother waving excitedly to him.

“Got some!”

Qrow wiped the last of the dirt from his hands as he wandered towards his brother. In the time it took him to cross the yard, the blond had already dug out a clod of the earth with a trowel, a merry clump of clovers sitting proudly at the top. He held it out for the man to inspect, and red eyes skirted over the tiny collection of green leaves.

He hadn't expected them to be so... tiny.

“There's a spare pot on the porch,” the blond told him, already walking towards the house. “Come on, I'll show you how to replant them.”

Red eyes blinked back up at the man, following after him. “Ah, right...” he murmured.

With the breath of words falling from his lips, it was all the confirmation his brother needed, and exactly how he wound up with his hands even filthier than before, reeking of the liquid fertiliser Tai liked to use after some had spattered along his arm. Dirt was firmly caked under his nails at this point, as promised, and he stared down at them in vague wonder as to how he kept landing firmly in these kind of situations.

Maybe not this specifically, as he never really had a green thumb aside from buying flowers occasionally, but even that was a rarity. And they were already harvested and on their way to a quick demise, so it didn't  _really_ count.

The sudden notion hit him on the forehead with all the precision of an arrow. Wait, did these things flower? They had to, right? Weeds were prolific, so it made sense that they flowered and dropped seeds everywhere.

The thought had his brow pinching faintly. He was suddenly wondering if this was a bad idea if they wanted to take over the rest of the guy's rainforest. No, no, it wouldn't. With the way he tended to every single one of them, he'd surely keep it in check. Maybe it wasn't too late to back out of this idea; it was just a joke present after all, right?

The quiet sigh had slipped from him before he had a chance to snatch at it.

He was getting far too ahead of himself there.

Tai glanced back at him, withdrawing hands from the nearby bag of soil on a chair. “Everything alright?” he asked softly.

Red eyes blinked back at him, caught at the gentle tone that washed over his ears, and he realised he must've drifted off again as he stood there. His brow pinched lightly and he parted his lips to reply, but finding nothing he really wanted to say. He lowered his hands, gaze following the action as fingers settled about the decorative little pot before him. They looked so... small.

A little collection of weeds in a decorative pot.

There was a heavier sigh, and his shoulders slumped gently with it.

“This is so stupid...” the breath slipped from him.

It really  _was_ a silly idea. A completely poor one, and compared to come of the others in his life, it really did rank up there as kind of a stupid one. It had just been something he'd concocted of on a simple whim, and decided that it sounded great at the time.

There came a faint sound of amusement from next to him, and Tai hefted the bag to the porch once more, going about collecting the tools and goods they'd used.

“I think it's nice,” he said with simple affirmation, clipping the lid shut on the fertiliser.

Blue eyes kept firmly to his work as he placed all his bits and pieces back into their carry case, ready for stowage where they once came from; not that they were ever really that far from his reach in the garden. The man seemed to have a natural affinity for caring for his outdoor space.

He probably had more garden tools than Qrow did forks in his apartment.

“And it's a cute little gift,” he continued. “It's not even on the nose or anything. _And_ given what you've already told me, he doesn't have any. So... it's perfect.”

Red eyes stared back at him, still a little dubious over the whole situation. It still felt poorly thought out in his mind, despite his brother's  _very_ convincing words. Yet... he was right. It was just a cute little gift for someone who didn't have anything like it.  _And_ the man had already confirmed it for him.

Hell, if he didn't have anywhere to put it in his apartment, there was always his office. He was sure there was a spare shelf somewhere under his mounds of books, or maybe even on his desk. He had a fairly neat desk, after all, and the students would probably appreciate the visual pun.

Qrow strained not to let the sigh slip across his tongue once more.

He was overthinking it once more, letting his mind run wild with what-if's, and he refused to let himself get caught up in  _that_ kind of thing again.

It was just a gift.

A stupid- a  _cute_ ... little gift.

Of a bunch of weeds in a decorative pot.

“Yeah... perfect...” he breathed, wishing the word sounded more like it's meaning than a resigned mutter.

***

Fingers tapped on the steering wheel as he made his way through traffic once more. He was almost worried that peak hour was nearly done for the day, as he was more than certain his wandering mind would cause him to lose entire focus on the road ahead of him. Braking and accelerating through peak hour? He could do that in his sleep.

Managing to concentrate when traffic was running smoothly? He knew, just  _knew_ , he'd wind up rear-ending someone with how scattered his thoughts were.

He placed his elbow to the door, hand covering his mouth as brows pinched.

It was like the loose thread on a sweater. His mind wanted to pick and pluck and scrape it until the thoughts started spiralling outwards from where they once lay neatly in a row. His brain wanted nothing more than to unravel it all and bury him in a tangled, fraying mess.

The heavy sigh fell from him, and fingers pushed upwards, brushing loosely through dark hair.

Red eyes glanced at his passenger seat, and the small prize so carefully buckled into place, lingering for a handful of time before ducking back up to the road. If he wasn't careful, he'd miss his turn, his mind snapped at him, and he brought both hands to the wheel once more.

Perhaps the radio would give him some relief from the static in his mind, he thought idly, fingers reaching for the little dial. The quiet huff left him as some discordant pop song began to play, and he sat back in his seat a little further.

“Stupid...”

***

There was one other dilemma, his mind offered helpfully.

Keys fumbled in his fingers, using a single hand to flick through them one by one as he searched for the right one. The rest of him was utterly occupied with not fumbling anything _else_ he carried. In his other hand he precariously clutched a stack of mail; the letters and flyers sandwiched about the handle of his briefcase.

A plastic shopping bag was slung about his little finger, a quick and lazy dinner from the Turkish place along the way, slowly cutting off circulation. His satchel lay slung across his chest, probably the only thing that was relatively secure and unlikely to topple from his hands.

And in his arm, the worst of the lot, his new charge. Of everything he could potentially drop, he really didn't want to think about losing _that_ particular one. Foliage jostled this way and that as he finally slid the key into the lock, twisting it sharply and shouldering the door open.

It was a delicate juggling act he'd performed many a time, but never with a full pot of soil alongside so many other things in his hands all at once. Not to mention dinner. Dinner was the important one.

He glanced over the bulk of his packages, focusing as best as he could on his shoes as he stepped out of them, toeing them to the side and wandering into his apartment. Home sweet home, he mused, letting dinner sit upon the table and unhooking his finger from it, feeling already tingling back into the digit.

Qrow turned a little, the bottom of his briefcase connecting with the tabletop and he uncurled almost aching fingers, letting it drop free along with the heap of paperwork in his hands. It scattered to a stop upon the table and he sighed in relief, glad to be free of the nuisance that was all of that.

Yet he still held his dilemma in his arm.

He brought both hands properly about it, the pinch of a brow following as he stared over the little pot of weeds. For what _still_ felt like such a stupid idea to him, he had to admit, it was... kind of growing on him.

The soft snort left him and he placed it gently to the table.

Alright, if it was wringing unconscious puns to his mind, then maybe it wasn't too terrible after all.

Red eyes stayed upon it, lingering over the pale green leaves that looked entirely too small. Fingertips reached up, skirting lightly over the closest little frond, feeling cool leaf. Entirely too delicate.

Fingers curled away, almost concerned that his heavy touch might be too much for such a little thing, and he simply watched it, feeling the steady prick of his thoughts return to the forefront of his mind. That dilemma still hounded him...

He closed his eyes with a faint breath across his lips, turning away from it as arms folded across his chest, resting against the edge of the table.

He could always take it to the man's office, as he thought earlier. At least then, he'd have some greenery with him during work hours. Nor would it get lost in the veritable rainforest of his home. A finger tapped a faint rhythm upon his jacket as he mulled it over.

It would mean striding through the halls of campus with the thing in his arms, directly past his own office and straight to his, and probably looking very foolish indeed.

Not that  _that_ was a stretch for him at times, his mind bitterly groused.

He reached up with one hand, pressing fingers to his forehead as he chased the nagging thought away, red eyes closing as he forced himself to stay on track.

There was no way to ambush him along the way, since he lived so close to campus; the time frame for such a mission would be utterly brief at best and completely missable at worst. Nor would he want to burden the man with the damn thing if he was on his way to or from said campus.

It really only left one option, which was the man's home. Red eyes opened once more, and he stared a little unseeing at the floor. It wasn't as if he didn't know where he lived, so it would merely be as simple as messaging him and coming up with an excuse as to why he wanted to come over. Not that... he really needed an excuse, it seemed.

Clover seemed more than content to extend an open invitation into his home. Perhaps... they could discuss something about the upcoming study abroad trip? No, that still seemed a little ways off yet, and according to Clover, all the major work had been completed. Finals week, then? Was there was something he needed to discuss about the upcoming week of finals? The two of them  _were_ about to be confined to their offices and desks for a disgusting amount of time. They needed to prepare as much as the students did, so perhaps that could be his angle.

His hands dropped with another heavy sigh, and he glanced over at his little kitchen. Well, whatever he decided, it was something that could be done after a disgusting amount of greasy food and a shower.

He still smelled like fertiliser.

***

The weekend was a bit of a lie, he realised.

Time off to himself, as much as he craved it at certain times of the year, was a bitter notion and a foreign construct the closer the year rolled to finals.

Qrow was vastly used to a chunk of his weekend always rolling into him being shackled to his desk, or having to leaf through papers or some sort or other. Family commitments were another thing, and whilst he didn't resent them, there were some gatherings that always seemed to catch him off-guard and eat away at his time more than he would've liked.

_Those_ kind of family gatherings kind of grated on him.

Usually if that were the case, it involved his sister, but there was nothing unusual about that.

They would eternally be oil and water, and the only time they seemed to blend was when someone viciously shook their jar for a while.

He still wouldn't trade it for the world. Family was family, after all.

The faint smile found him as he stared down at his phone, having lost himself for a moment as he tapped it lightly. Free time to himself was a dwindling thing, like a candle burning down to it's last light, and he was relishing what little he had for the remainder of the morning.

It was also the only chance he would get to do exactly what he needed to do.

He tapped open his contacts, ignoring the rest of the news for now, and scrolled down to where a particular name sat. A fingertip hovered above it, hesitation creeping through him once more. It was  _also_ his last chance to back down, and red eyes flicked away briefly.

No, no.  _No_ .

He'd already had the argument with himself for hours now; his only reprieve when sleep snatched at him for a brief amount of time. Only to wake up at the crack of dawn and feel his brow pinch with the notion of how  _stupid_ it was all over again.

“Oh come on...” he almost hissed to himself, jabbing at the name.

Fingers tapped over the little keys with a practised ease, sending the message out with a final whoosh, and he immediately clicked his phone off. Dropped it back onto the cushions as he stood, pacing directly to the kitchen and placing his hands to the edge of the sink.

His miraculously  _empty_ sink, as procrastination had forced his hand into cleaning veritably his entire apartment before tackling the notion of sending  _one message_ to someone.

Fingers had just about dug about the edge of the metal, and he licked his lips faintly, chewing lightly as he merely stood there. He'd done it. He'd sent his message. Now all he had to do was wait for the reply and hope the guy wasn't otherwise distracted by something.

Qrow didn't know what he would do if he had to  _wait_ for a rep-

The sharp ding sent red eyes whipping over to the couch and his heart to his throat, and he was already chastising himself as he walked back to it, scanning the brief confirmation.

_Sure thing! I'll be here all afternoon!_

He wasn't too sure what had his concern spiking more. His own hesitation, or the acceptance.

In the end, he rationalised, it didn't matter which was worse, because there was no such thing as worse around the guy. It was just his  _own_ concerns. Something that Clover seemed to simply... help smooth over.

Even if other concerns would always remain, tucked under the surface, and taunting him with that single word.

He felt his brow pinch at the notion, not letting himself wander down  _that_ particular rabbit hole any more. He'd done enough stewing and spent enough time pondering over sight and memory to know that it was simply another stumbling block for his mind.  _This_ particular problem was far easier to deal with, and it had a wonderfully simple solution and conclusion.

So, mind made up, he tucked his phone into a pocket. The rest could come later. For now, he had a gift to deliver.

***

He was hesitating again, damn it all. Fingers were curled loosely into a fist, hovering below the number on the man's door.

He'd spent the entire drive over in a wavering sort of determination, which felt foreign to him. No other decision about his colleague had been this hard to come to, but then again, it was technically also the first actual gift he'd brought him.

Stolen food from his family didn't count,  _especially_ if he were merely helping to take care of a dying man on a couch.

This was... it was just a thank you. A simple little thank you gift. Or a teasing little promise. A gag gift, over a joke that had the two of them in utter stitches on the couch, and the faint smile touched his lips. Whatever sounded better in his head. He took in a steadying breath, red eyes closing for a moment. He didn't trust himself to hide the pot behind his back; knowing his luck, he'd end up fumbling it in his state and dropping it across the floor. Not a classy way to start the visit.

He let his breath out in a low sigh, glancing down at the small thing in his arm. No, Clover would have the privilege of seeing it right up front, as soon as he opened the door.

Which would happen, as soon as he knocked, he reminded himself.

Right, knocking. He rapped on the wood a couple of times, feeling something in his stomach squirm a little. Oh boy. This was it. He was really in the thick of it now. There was a faint sound of movement from inside, and he felt his hold tighten a little on the pot. He was being ridiculous, and he knew it. Nerves were one thing, but this felt drastically over the top, even for him.

It was just... his first... real and proper gift to the guy.

That's all.

A little joke gift.

Nothing terrifying about it at  _all_ .

The door opened and lips parted, firmly hesitating as green eyes immediately went from his own, to the small wad of foliage in his arms, then returned to meet red once more. Brunet brows rose a little, almost stuck for a moment.

“... hi there,” came the soft words.

Qrow felt every single thought shrivel and die in his mind.

“Hi. Ah.”

_Phenomenal_ start, his mind announced.

He resisted the urge to sigh at himself already.

“Are they... really..?”

The soft words had him ducking his eyes down to them, almost checking to see if they still were-

“Ah. You might have mentioned it at one point,” Qrow told him, clearing his throat softly and blustering ahead with his words, ignoring the soft thudding of his pulse in his ears. “And I figured now was as good a time as any. So uh, here's to happy finals week.”

He punctuated his words by holding the little pot out, trying not to think of how he nearly shoved it towards the man. Both of them seemed a little caught for a moment in time, and for a handful of seconds, neither of them remembered how to move.

Green eyes blinked back at the man, who was feeling that rampant squirming in his stomach rapidly dialling it up to eleven. Oh gods but this was a stupid idea. Given his complete lack of reaction, it only confirmed it for him entirely. An incredibly stupid, poorly thought out, horrendous-

Fingers brushed alongside his, and Qrow realised with startling clarity that Clover had reached up to gather the small pot into his hands.

“This is...”

The breath slipped from him, and the man couldn't take his eyes off the little offering. The faintest curl of a smile found its way to the corners of his mouth, and Clover could only gather it into his arms with as much tenderness and affection as a father holding his newborn.

The sight of that utter adoration crossing the man's expression was enough to needle at him again, and he glanced away from it, one freed hand now reaching up to rub at the side of his neck lightly.

“Qrow, this is wonderful...” came the breath of a laugh.

The squirming just wouldn't  _stop_ .

“Come inside, I'll make us some coffee.”

Red eyes widened a little, and almost darted back to the man. Wait. Inside.  _Inside_ his apartment. Oh gods, but he hadn't properly thought out past this point of the exchange. He knew his excuse for coming over included a fabrication of sitting down and working alongside him, but he honestly hadn't  _thought_ past it.

“Uh...” His mouth was entirely dry, and he swallowed lightly. “Yeah, sure. We can... draw up battle plans together.”

The words had the quiet laugh spilling from the man, and Clover turned away from those eyes with a warm smile, heading back into his apartment. Qrow trailed after him, closing the door behind them as they made their way to the kitchen. The small pot was placed down upon the bench, and green eyes were still admiring it softly, fingers reaching up to trace the backs of them gently across delicate foliage.

“Have you thought of a name yet?”

Clover perked at the words, glancing over his shoulder at him. “A name?” For someone so wonderfully in tune with the world about him, the man was utterly lost.

A brow raised dubiously above red eyes, and Qrow gave a sweeping gesture to the apartment about them.

“You have all these children and you haven't _immediately_ thought of a name, Plant Dad? Shameful,” the soft taunt rolled easily from him, and Clover couldn't stop the soft snort that fell from him. Oh, but he was never going to live that name down...

“Not really...” he breathed, turning back to the little pot. Fingers settled on the bench next to it, brushing the coloured glaze. He glanced back up at the man, wry smile on his lips. “How about you pick one? I'm only adopting this one, after all.”

_That_ suggestion caused the man to baulk lightly, and all witty retort was suddenly gone from his mind. Oh. Well. Now that was something he hadn't counted on.

Professor Branwen, usually a man of such poignant words and delicate prose, could only grasp at smoke as he stared down at the target of his dilemma. His mind seemed to go entirely blank as a soliloquy of nothingness began reciting in the depths of his soul. Lips parted, and he made to reply when the words died on his tongue.

Well, nothing like throwing out the only word association that seemed to work for him.

“Uh. Lucky,” he announced simply.

Green eyes blinked back at him.

“... Lucky.”

The name sounded entirely stupid as it was repeated back to him.

“Yeah,” he told him firmly. “Lucky.”

Clover glanced down at the little plant, brunet brows ducking upwards as he seemed to ponder the name against the sight of the thing. Qrow could only curse at himself in a rather impressive internal typhoon of phrases, wondering how obvious it would be if he smacked a hand to his face in exasperation.

He was alone in his quandary, as Clover had taken to allowing that warm smile to grace his lips with a fullness that seemed to overtake his expression entirely. Fingers stilled on the side of a glazed pot, and he almost seemed lost to the world about him as he stared at delicate foliage.

“... I like it,” came the soft breath of words.

Red eyes blinked a little, wondering if he actually heard that right, but gods, did he not want to ask about it. He reached up, one hand running to the side of his neck again, and glancing off to the side. Maybe he could be subtle about it and slip out the door before Clover had a chance to critique him on it some more.

He had no such luck.

Green eyes met his once more, and that smile was warm upon his lips as Clover drew away from the bench entirely.

“I also promised you coffee,” he told him simply, and he headed to where the little machine was. “Grab the milk out, and I'll get started.” Reaching up to a cupboard, the man extracted a couple of glass mugs, flicking on the machine with a practised twist. Conversation was all but drowned out as it began to fire up, and Qrow could only do as he was told, movement starting to abate some of the tension roiling in his stomach.

He reached for the waiting metal jug, filling it up to what he thought was the acceptable fill mark on the inside of it. Clover nodded his approval and took it gently from him, tucking it under the little nozzle and watching carefully as it began to froth and boil.

Qrow wasn't at all surprised the man had this kind of setup in his place. Given what he'd already seen the man drink, he knew his preferences ran into the 'fancy' category, but past that, he seemed to be at a loss. So it made sense that Clover would have a smaller machine at home. He wasn't at all shocked to know it was a full espresso machine, and he could probably guess the man would scrunch his nose up at a  _pod machine_ .

Though he'd probably be into the recycling side of it, Qrow realised with a soft snort, glad the machine was there to drown him out.

Noise suddenly died from around him, and he blinked back into existence once more. He watched as Clover poured it with almost an expert hand, and slid one of the mugs over to him. Fingers curled about it, feeling warmth bleeding into his skin and already savouring the aroma.

The smile curled to his lips as he raised his mug in silent thanks, Clover doing the same as they both leant against the bench.

“To finals week?”

Clover's words had him pausing for a moment, and he brought his mug forwards, clinking the two of them together lightly.

“To finals week,” he replied, taking a short sip. Gods above, but it was heavenly and he closed red eyes briefly, letting the first taste of that relaxation wash through him.

He was a hell of a cook, and now he knew he was a hell of a barista, too.

Mr Perfect indeed...

He glanced back over to the man, finding green eyes watching him in light amusement. He raised a brow at him from across his mug, and it caused that wry smile to grow.

Clover glanced over at the little plant. “Lucky says we'll be fine,” he told him easily.

Qrow couldn't help the soft snuffle of laughter as it fell from him, spilling out and into the shared space between them as they stood there. It wasn't long before the rich laughter of the man beside him joined in, and the sound echoed through the apartment.

It felt joyous, and for a short moment in life, it felt like everything he could ever want.

In a way, it already was.

“You're such a nerd...” he told the man as his laughter tapered off, settling eyes on the small potted plant.

Clover could only offer him a scant shrug by way of agreement. “I mean, you've called me worse.”

There was a beat of time, and it almost felt like an uneasy silence had slipped between them. Green eyes glanced back at his colleague as he found it was  _his_ turn to feel the faint squirm of nerves within his stomach. Had he been too forward with it? Was it really the right thing to say, considering their history?

The thought was dashed almost as soon as it began to form, as Qrow found his smile began to grow. Something warmed inside his chest, and he knew it was from more than mere caffeine or nerves.

He brought his gaze back to the man, gesturing lightly with his mug. There was an ease about him that was suddenly palpable, and Clover could only return the soft smile with one of his own.

Perhaps, then...

“In that case... I take back every mean thing I've said to you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Reminder: read Jelly's fic <3
> 
> As a fun side note, the title translates to stupid clover. I ah... couldn't resist. Oops.


End file.
